


Simple Joy

by ruasquirrel



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Cute, Emotional Baggage, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Mental Health Issues, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:41:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23401669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruasquirrel/pseuds/ruasquirrel
Summary: "Today, it was Connie’s turn to ‘take care of him’.He still hated calling it that, but those were her words, and she insisted on repeating them as often as possible.‘I want to take care of you’, she had said emphatically, each and every time he let his guilt show through. She didn’t possess any powers, but Steven found it difficult to describe the effect she had on him as anything other than magic."
Relationships: Connie Maheswaran/Steven Universe
Comments: 29
Kudos: 314
Collections: Steven Universe Completed Recommended Reads





	Simple Joy

**Author's Note:**

> Feeling pretty good about that canon status, fellow connverse fans?  
> Yeah, me too.  
> The crew didn't show us their first kiss, so now us fans get to write as many first kisses as we want without being contradicted by canon, so I took a crack at it.

The weeks after his breakdown were a profoundly strange experience for Steven. As someone who had built his entire identity around helping others at the expense of his own wellbeing, he had never expected to find himself being cared for by the very people he had been compelled to heal. It was an odd feeling, to let others take care of him, to take a step back and stop trying to stringently regulate his behaviour so as to not burden others. The act of reaching out an offering a helping hand was supposed to be the strenuous part; no-one ever seemed to talk about how difficult it could be to reach back and accept it.

There was a certain nervousness that came with sacrificing one’s burdens like that; an anxiety that Steven was becoming intimately familiar with. To relinquish control of his situation and let other people make decisions for him, to put the ugliest parts of himself on display and find the strength to believe that people wouldn’t love him any less for having seen them.

It had felt so relieving, and so _very_ uncomfortable.

With the Gems, his dad and Connie offering to take on so many of his burdens, he was left feeling lighter than ever; and contrary to popular belief, it wasn’t a wholly pleasant feeling. After all, if _his_ burdens were lighter, it meant that everyone else’s had gotten a little heavier.

Ah, but he wasn’t supposed to think that way anymore.

Hoisting himself out of his bed at the leisurely time of 11:30 in the morning, he made a conscious effort to (as Amethyst so eloquently put it) cut himself some slack, and to deliberately remind himself that it was okay to rely on other people. That it was okay to sleep in, that it was okay to forget to shower sometimes, or to admit you couldn’t help someone, or to ask someone else to do something for you when your mind and body simply refused to cooperate with each other. It was hard not to hate himself for it. But he was trying, and that was all he could really do. Besides, his friends and family had been so insistent on taking care of him, it almost felt mean to refuse.

Today, it was Connie’s turn to ‘take care of him’.

He still hated calling it that, but those were _her_ words, and she insisted on repeating them as often as possible. ‘I want to take care of you’, she had said emphatically, each and every time he let his guilt show through. She didn’t possess any powers, but Steven found it difficult to describe the effect she had on him as anything other than magic. It probably wasn’t fair to pick favourites, but he found himself looking forward to Connie’s days with a smidge more enthusiasm than the others’. She just seemed to know exactly when to push, and when to relent, and she gracefully allowed him vent his negative feelings without letting him descend into a spiral of self-hatred. When he was drowning in his own thoughts, all it took was a look, or a firm hand on his shoulder, or his name passing her lips to pull him back onto dry land.

He had only been awake for around 30 minutes when she arrived, but as excited as he had been for her visit, he hadn’t managed to do much other than sit and stare into space.

“So, how are you holding up?” she had asked breezily, tossing her bag down beside his bed and taking a seat.

Steven, still in his pyjamas, slumped down onto the bed next to her.

“Uh, fine I guess.”

He glanced at the mirror, looked himself up and down and grimaced.

“Sorry about the mess.”

Connie looked about the room, and turned back to him with a raised brow.

“It looks tidy to me.”

“Not that mess,” Steven corrected sheepishly, gesturing to his loungewear.

“You’re not a mess, Steven,” she said immediately.

He grunted a half-hearted acknowledgement and shrugged, and her brows knitted together as she levelled him with a keen gaze. It was a look that he had long since learned to recognise.

‘I’m not letting up until you tell me what’s wrong’.

Meeting her eye, he found his willpower quickly fading; as much as his instincts were screaming at him to brush off his feelings and smother the uneasy tension building in his chest, he knew he had to make an effort to ignore them. If the events of a few weeks ago had taught him anything, it was that Connie Maheswaran was a force to be reckoned with. A force that he simply didn’t have the strength to defy.

He heaved a defeated sigh and looked down at his feet.

“I _feel_ like a mess,” he admitted quietly, “I couldn’t even get dressed for you coming over.”

“I don’t mind, really. It doesn’t matter what you’re wearing, I’m here for _you_ , not your wardrobe.”

“But- Okay, I know you don’t mind but… _I_ mind. I feel sloppy. You deserve better from me.”

She paused, and he could see her from her thoughtful expression that she was carefully formulating a response.

“Steven,” she began, placing a familiar hand on his shoulder, “You don’t have to do _anything_ for me right now, you’ve done enough.”

He shrugged again, and hated that it was the only response he felt capable of. He never knew how to respond to statements like that, when each and every expression of gratitude from another person resulted in an internal struggle with his own subconscious.

“Hey, maybe next time I should come in sweatpants!”

That caught him by surprise. He turned to her, lips pulled up into a confused frown and a wrinkle in his brow.

“Huh?”

Playfully, she swung her arm over his shoulders and pressed her body up against his. Despite himself, he found his own weight shifting as he relaxed against her form, solid and upright and supportive.

“You know, so we can both look sloppy. We can lay around in our sweats all day and eat junk food and play video games, if that would make you feel better.”

He rolled his eyes, almost opened his mouth to dismiss the very idea of it. He had to quickly remind himself that was supposed to be learning how to accept other peoples’ support, and if he were to be completely honest with himself, there was a part of him that found her proposition immensely appealing.

“Is that a serious offer?” he asked.

“Of course it is! Besides, with all the studying I’ve been doing lately, I could really use it too, y’know?”

He narrowed his eyes at her and scrutinised her face, now only inches away from his own.

“You’re only saying that so I don’t feel bad, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” she said coyly, “Does it matter? I told you I’d take care of you, and if that’s what you want then I’ll do it.”

His eyes fell to the floor, and she brushed a stray curl from his forehead with a graceful sweep of her hand, fingers lightly tracing over his skin as she brought it to settle against his cheek.

“I’m serious, Steven,” she reminded him gently, and he returned his gaze to hers, “Anything you need, I’ll do it. I _want_ to do it. You don’t have to feel bad for asking.”

A tiny smile tugged at his lips. Something about the way she spoke, straightforward, yet so gentle and affectionate and without a hint of subterfuge, made it so easy to believe her words. As much as his own inner voice delighted in tormenting him, loud and as aggressive as it was, it didn’t stand a chance against Connie’s steadfast devotion.

He nodded, felt his eyes begin to water.

“Thank you,” he whispered, knowing that he’d choke up if he spoke any louder.

She smiled back at him, serene and loving, and the two of them remained there, basking in each other’s gazes. For a moment, they were perfectly still, but soon he found himself leaning closer, his face pulled towards hers by some indescribable magnetic force. She too leaned in, and her hand, still pressed against his cheek, was now being used to tug his face forward. He closed his eyes, and without a hint of fuss or fanfare, their lips met, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

He hadn’t planned on doing it (he got the feeling she hadn’t either) and yet here he was, kissing Connie, like he had imagined more times than he cared to admit. It was chaste, and totally innocent, and barely lasted a few seconds, but as he pulled back and reopened his eyes he couldn’t help the dumb grin that split across his face. Connie, too, sported a grin of her own, and her forehead fell against his as she visibly attempted to suppress a fit of giggles. He grasped both of her hands in his, squeezed them tightly and let out an undignified snort.

“Sorry,” he said, flushed and buzzing with a giddy kind of joy that made his heart do somersaults inside his chest.

“For what?” she asked, adjusting and readjusting her grip on his hands. He kept his eyes trained on the entanglement of fingers that lay between them, suddenly finding it very difficult to meet her eye.

“I dunno,” he admitted, still working on supressing his goofy smile.

Connie broke, her poorly maintained composure finally slipping as she let out a snort that somehow sounded even less dignified than his own and fell back onto the bed with a squeal, hiding her face in her hands and kicking her legs out like an indignant child. He followed suit, falling onto his back and covering his mouth with his hand.

The two of them lay there, thrashing and giggling and teasing each other for a few precious minutes as they shook out the buzzing energy that ran through them and made room for serene contentment to settle down in its place. His concern regarding his state of dress totally forgotten, Steven faced her as he lay on his side, as did she, and within moments they were back to talking and touching and sharing each other’s company just as comfortably as they always had.

It hadn’t been like he had imagined it. There was no sudden shift in the world or a new, powerful connection to be made; in fact, almost _nothing_ had changed. Steven felt exactly as committed to Connie as he had been before he kissed her, and he was certain she felt the same. The simple act of pressing their lips together hadn’t elevated their relationship to a new level of investment or anything, it was just nice that kissing was something they got to do now. He briefly wondered if it was unfair for him to ask Connie to be his girlfriend in that moment, with his mental health being the way it was. But the more he thought about it, the more he realised that she would be there regardless. Romantically involved or not, the two of them were inseparable; Connie wasn’t any less invested in him as a friend than she would be as a boyfriend, and he was the same.

“So,” Connie said suddenly, snapping him out of his reverie, “Should I go get some sweats on or what?”

“You know what? Forget the sweats, how about we go for a walk instead?”

“Whatever you want.”

For the first time in weeks, Steven threw on a clean set of clothes, tugged on his jacket and stepped outside of his home, blinking against the sunlight. With Connie in tow, her hand wrapped in his, he wandered aimlessly about the boardwalk, and somehow managed not to think too hard about the terror he had stricken into the townsfolk just a few weeks prior. Love alone wasn’t enough to solve his problems, he knew that, but it sure made things seem a whole lot less terrifying. Everything that could be done alone felt a million times more bearable with loved ones by his side. Especially now that he’d begun allowing himself to believe he _deserved_ that love.

It still wasn’t easy. There were still days where he felt like shutting himself away forever. Loath as he was to admit it, he still sometimes wondered if it would be better to just disappear altogether. He still got angry sometimes. He still got scared that he’d lose control again. He still felt like a burden. He still examined his eyes in the mirror each morning, just to make sure they still looked human.

They always did.


End file.
